It Wasn't Your Fault
by CaileeChaos
Summary: Twenty years after Matt Campbell burned down the Aikman funeral home, Jonah's spirit is rediscovered. Apparently he didn't move on as everyone believed...and now, he might have a reason to stay forever.


**This is a one-shot about a relationship between Jonah and an original character. It's set twenty years after Matt burned the house down. The girl's family built a new home on the land originally owned by Aikman. Somehow Jonah's spirit stayed and the girl fell in love with Jonah. I'm not sure if I want to turn this into a full-blown story or not but defending on the response I might…enjoy. :]**

I felt the cotton on my fingertips; I gripped it slightly, feeling the smooth material underneath my grasp. Slowly, I turned my head and peered curiously at the dead boy. I parted my lips to speak but no words came out. Sensing my stare, he turned and smiled softly at me. Finally, I found my voice and was able to speak my thoughts, "Jonah…what was it like?"

The dead boy cocked his head slightly, confused obvious on his face. "The séances…what were they like?"

Immediately, his expression changed. His eyes dropped from my face to the blankets surrounding us. His mouth drooped into a frown. I watched as his chest lowered, he appeared to be sighing. Suddenly, visions filtered my head. I saw Jonah, sitting at the round table, the sitters around him. His body began to twitch and pivot awkwardly. I watched as horror was represented on his facial features. Then, the ectoplasm appeared. The gelatinous material began to ooze from his mouth, nose, and even his ears. It seeped out of his body, floating in the air around him like an aura of grotesque radiance.

Just as abruptly as the images came, they were gone. I too now frown and glanced at Jonah with sadness in my eyes. I wanted to hold his hand, to hug him, comfort him if at all possible but I knew if we touched, I would simply fall through his transparent, intangible body. Instead, I sighed and asked, "Did it hurt?"

Jonah didn't look at me, but stared at the ceiling while nodding. I bit my lip and also fixed my stare on the ceiling. Suddenly, my line of vision shifted. I saw Jonah and Aikman in the basement at the home that once stood on my family's land. I saw them cutting the skin of the dead bodies. I saw the eyelids being cut off. I saw the undeniable necromancy.

I shivered as I was thrown back into reality. I rubbed my temple. All these blasts from the past were starting to take a toll. Jonah sent me a sympathetic grimace. I shrugged. "Don't worry, Jo. I'm fine…"

I stifled a yawn and in a flicker he was out of my bed. I sat up and peered at him. "What are you doing?"

He stared at me knowingly. I rolled my eyes, "Calm down, dead boy, it was one yawn. I'm not going to pass out. I'm not even that tired."

Still he didn't move. I rolled my eyes but climbed under the covers none-the-less. I sat up a bit and patted the spot next to me on my full-size bed. I yawned once more and cursed myself as he went to stand. "Seriously, Jonah. I'm fine. Two yawns, sue me."

Hesitantly, he stayed. We both leaned back against the headboard and sat in silence. Eventually, I felt myself begin to lose awareness. I slumped down and cuddled with my pillow. I glanced up at Jonah. Stifling yet another yawn, I spoke, "Jonah…you know…it wasn't your fault. Ramsey manipulated you and even then you did everything in your power to try and save them. Ultimately you did…you helped that kid free their souls…so just…don't-"

I let out a quiet but long yawn. "Don't feel guilty…about it. Okay?"

I cracked open my eyes. Jonah peered at me, a melancholy look upon his face. He didn't say anything but simply turned and disappeared. I furrowed my brow and sat, stupefied, in silence. I tried to fall asleep-the agonizing tiredness drifting over me. However, Jonah's face lingered in my mind. Finally, I gave a loud, obnoxious huff, and straightened up.

"Jonah," I whined sitting up. Nothing in the darkened room changed. I glared at the open air. "I know you're here, dead boy. So just…come out already…"

Slowly, he materialized. I stared at him, offering a quick smile. "Jonah…"

He shook his head no. I pursed my lips. "But it's not your fault…I don't see how you can think it is…"

The brunette shrugged and shuffled over to my dresser. I watch as he ran his fingertips over the edge of the picture frame holding the photo of my mother, my sister, and I two years ago at the Tower of Terror in Disney Land. I threw back the blankets and pit-patted over to him. I waited until he faced me. I peered at him sadly.

"Do you think I'm a good person?" I asked, my voice quiet and feeble. Jonah's eyebrows etched together. I repeated myself. Surely, he nodded. I smiled, "Okay, so you think I'm a good person…do you think that I would be friends with someone who is a bad person?"

When realization hit, Jonah tightened his lips into a thin line. I glared at his mono-toned expression. I growled, "Jonah, I'm serious. According to you, I am a good person. So trust me when I say that you are too! Jonah. I love you, okay? Love. I don't love killers or psychopaths. But I do love you…why can't you stop being an idiot and realize that you're an amazing person? I just…I wish…I could have been there when you were alive. It would have made this whole 'loving you' thing a lot easier."

Jonah smiles softly, lifting his hand and stroking my hair. Only…I couldn't feel his touch. I was distressed by this fact. I bit my lip, my eyes moistening. This boy…this deceased boy is my first love and I can't even touch him. I mimicked his action, raising my hand-attempting to caress his cheek. Finally, he pulled back and motioned the bed. I was semi-satisfied with his response to my little speech so I nodded numbly and slid into bed.

Just as I went to close my eyes, I muttered, "Night, Jonah."

Jonah flashed me a smile and mouthed, 'I love you.'


End file.
